City Lights from Above
by Hoodies and Computers
Summary: Olicity office sex. ;) Rated M for a reason.


**A/N: Office sex! This was written before the episode where (SPOILER IF YOU HAVEN'T SEEN IT) Isabel takes the company away from Oliver. Anyway, I hope you enjoy!**

* * *

She taps her pen against her chin while her leg nervously bounces up and down. A sense of dread clouds her, but she's excited just even _wondering_ about it. And then it's got her thinking maybe Oliver has made her into this … weird, sex obsessed girl who's contemplating banging her boss inside his office, because she just _knows_ if they hadn't acted on their feelings four months ago she would simply be daydreaming and taking out her sexual fantasies via FanFiction. Which she still did.

Felicity glances at the clock for the sixth time in the past minute, and thanks every single deity it's half past nine and nearly everyone is gone. She's pretty sure if someone else was in the office they could hear her thoughts from a mile away, and she does not need that.

(As if her constant babbling wasn't enough.)

But she's anxious and she's never done something like this before. Being sexually adventurous and sultry. It's very _not_ Felicity. She takes a quick peek over to the side and sees Oliver in deep thought, his eyes scanning the computer. _He looked so hot in a suit. _

Her automatic response is to berate herself for thinking that way, but she smiles devilishly a second after because _he_ is hers. Finally. And if she wanted to have sex with him right now inside his office, she was going to do it.

_I'm going. I'm actually getting up and going there_. Her mouth gets drier with each step she takes, and with shaking hands Felicity opens the office door … and stands there, paralyzed. Her hands drop to her sides and she can feel her eyes go into a big, round shape from fear. This was a bad idea. A terrible one. One that could get her fired. Not that she would actually get fired because really, how could —

"Felicity? Is everything alright?"

She snaps out of her daze and swallows thickly. "No. I - I mean, yes. I mean — I'm really bad at lying."

Oliver smiles his special smile for her, the one that shows up when she says something incredibly stupid and juvenile. The lamplight on his desk luminates half his face, the other side is shrouded in darkness. Much like himself. But it's his smile which brings both sides of him together, and she's glad she's the one who was able to do that for him.

"Are you sure it's nothing?"

"I'm 100 percent sure." _Not_.

"OK."

Whatever amount of arousal and nervousness Felicity was feeling for the past hour washes away in a matter of seconds. Who was she kidding? There was no way she was ever going to go through with her plan. Felicity was _not_ the type of girl who … was aggressive and took any guy because she could. That wasn't her. And even if she was a bit more adventurous in bed with Oliver, that didn't necessarily mean she was confident enough to have _public office sex_.

"Listen, if you're going to stand there looking like your head is about to explode, then you might as well help me over here with something."

Felicity adjusts her glasses and smiles weakly, tiptoeing towards Oliver and unsuccessfully trying to calm her racing heart down. God, she always acted like some virginal princess with no experience when she was around him. She really needed to work on that.

Finally she reaches him, standing over his shoulder. She can practically feel the gears running inside Oliver's head, but she tries her best to ignore it. "What do you need?"

Oliver, calm as ever, focuses on the computer and points to it. "These numbers aren't making sense. The accountants sent me a list of the variances we might need to adjust, but look — the price variance over at Applied Sciences is only 2,000 over, but the efficiency variance is at 4,000."

Felicity leans closer and bends to see what Oliver is asking her about. For a brief second she's absorbed in the numbers in front of her, but without warning her nerves being to tingle and she's hyperaware of Oliver being _right_ next to her. And then her nose starts begging her to inhale his custom Armani cologne because it smelled _so_ good. And then she's a lost cause, because let's face it — Felicity has _always_ been a lost cause when it came to Oliver.

It just happens. One minute she's "acting" normal, and the next, she's grabbing onto the lapels of his suit and pressing her lips over his, desperate for his touch. Her legs are burning from the stretch of being bent over and kissing him, but _Thank God_ is all she can think about. Sneaking around took a toll on her sometimes and she really, _really_ wanted him.

Now.

She's about to pull back and pretend she had no idea what happened, but it seems like Oliver had been thinking the same thing. Abruptly he stands up and takes her face into his hands, kissing her with such passion she can't breathe. He beckons for her to open up and Felicity complies, his tongue immediately slithering in and plunging into her mouth. She moans loudly. Kissing Oliver was like falling in love over and over again.

He tastes like Oliver with a hint of chocolate and she can't get enough. His right hand is fisted in her hair while the other is pressed on her hip, pushing her closer to him. Felicity can't decide where to place her wandering hands — they go from his head to his structured jaw, down to his chest . She loves his body, scars and all.

Suddenly, Oliver pulls back slightly and bends down a little, his arms locking beneath her bum. "What are you doing?" she asks throatily. Instead he grins boyishly and proceeds to lift her up. Felicity yelps a little, but he quickly buries his face in her neck, licking and kissing every inch of her.

Her back thuds against the window and a small amount of fear cripples her. Considering the amount of times Oliver's office windows have broken, she could fall down and snap her neck. "Oliver, this isn't a —"

He sucks on her pulse point right then, and _God_. She can't think. She can't breathe. Felicity wraps her legs even tighter around him, feeling just how hard he is for her. Moaning wantonly again, she tangles her arms around his neck, letting Oliver devour her neck. His stubble scratches against her skin, but she relishes it — it feels good. The cold air filters through the window, but she's getting hot and sweaty and _nothing_ could make her rethink their position.

Oliver grinds against her core, and Felicity can't stop another moan from spilling her lips. His left hand travels down to her breast and he greedily palms it, while he brings his lips back onto hers. Felicity uses every inch of passion buried deep within her in this kiss, desperate for him. All of him. His lean muscles mold onto her not-so-supermodel body, but every time they're together like _this_, she marvels at how well they fit together.

He pulls back suddenly, and Felicity actually whimpers at the loss of contact. She takes a good look at him — his lips are beyond swollen, his suit jacket is halfway off his shoulder, his eyes are impossibly dark, and she can see that he's straining against his pants. Unconsciously she licks her lips, and focuses on breathing more calmly.

The ambient light paints his smooth face but something changes. Before she knows it, he's grabbing her shoulders and spinning her around, lightly pushing her against the window. She gasps as her face plants against the cold window. Her stomach clenches at the new position, and she blushes at how _hot_ this seemed. The whole world sits below, and they have no idea Oliver Queen is about to have sex Felicity Smoak, the nerdy IT girl, up against a window.

"I've been thinking about this all day," Oliver huskily whispers from behind, his hands bunching up her dress up to her waist. Her warm breath fogs the window, and when she moves her hand from the glass it leaves a palm print. His fingers grasp onto her lace underwear (her only pair, actually), slowly pulling it down. She sighs and rests her head against the window, waiting in anticipation.

"You're not the only one."

He hums quietly, and once he's dropped her panties on the ground Felicity immediately kicks them to the side. Soon after, she hears a jingle of his belt and the zipper being undone. She zeroes in on Starling City, watching the cars zoom by and the destroyed building in the Glades. A loud rip is heard a second after, and she can see Oliver's reflection on the window — his face is contorted in concentration and lust. Her stomach clenches again, so glad she can have Oliver all to herself.

Swallowing once more, Felicity feels him up against her again, having already slipped the condom on with precise ease. His knee nudges her leg, asking her to open up, while his hands pool her dress around her hips. "The likelihood someone is watching —"

"I don't care," he grunts and he's easily slips in, slowly stretching her out. They simultaneously moan, hers just a bit louder. Thank goodness no one is at the office.

Oliver stays there for a moment, careful with her. He was always like this — watching every movement, making sure Felicity wasn't uncomfortable. It was sweet, really. But sometimes she wanted The Hood part of Oliver, the one who took what he wanted and was aggressive.

She wanted to be fucked by _that_ Oliver.

"Hurry up," she breathes out. Listening to her wishes, Oliver pulls out completely before slamming into her again. Her head snaps back and lands on his shoulder, her mouth open and a throaty moan tumbling from her lips. Her left hand goes up to Oliver's jaw, grabbing onto it and attempting to have some sort of control, while the other tries to stay steady on the window.

It truly seems Oliver _had_ been thinking about this tryst because he's moving at an furious pace. She plants both of her hands against the window, letting him take her the way she wanted him too. Of course he's not completely giving in, but she'll take what she can get. She's feeling exposed, full, content, and downright _dirty_ right now.

She loves it.

He continues to thrust in and out, and as much as Felicity wants to kiss him and wrap her arms around his neck, she just can't. The feeling is too intense, too toxic, their skin slapping against one another. Her hands are slipping from the window, her sweat fogging the glass and leaving droplets on it. Looking up, Felicity catches Oliver's reflection again, however faint it may be. His eyes flicker up; they're hooded with lust, sweat is dotting his forehead, and he's breathing heavily. Felicity's breath catches in her chest. God, the look is so … powerful. A groan escapes his mouth. "Fuck," he says lowly. He must be as effected by simple eye contact, too.

Oliver reduces his pace for a moment for slamming back into her. She whimpers and moans, calling his name out, her head rolling back and letting him ravage her throat. Languidly, his right hand leaves her hips and goes up to her breast, kneading it once more before heading south. Her breathing escalates, knowing exactly what he was going to do. His fingers lightly graze her sensitive nub, which incidentally is enough to drive her insane.

Not bothering to slow down, Oliver switches up his angle. _Holy shit_. "Oh God … Right there." She can feel herself getting closer, and coupled with how furiously Oliver is rubbing her clit, he must be getting there too. Her groans and moans have increased; Oliver keeps driving into her at the same angle, and seriously, she could _never_ get tired of this. He pants loudly behind her.

A rising inferno builds inside Felicity. Her legs are shaking and she's not sure if she can even stand up right now. His lips are latched onto her neck. "Come for me, sweetheart," he whispers sinfully.

"I just — I need —" Felicity can't decide if she should keep her head on Oliver's shoulder or let it hang, because neither position is providing any bit of relief. Hell, she can't even hold onto the window for crying out loud. She needs her release _now_.

"What do you want?" he asks, still thrusting at the same, passionate pace.

Straightening herself, she cranes her neck to the side and stares right at Oliver. His eyes are completely covered in darkness, but he watches her intently, totally wrapped around her pleasure. "Kiss me."

He doesn't hesitate. Oliver kisses her fiercely, taking her and driving her over to the edge all at the same time. She comes, a searing hot flash traveling through every inch of her body, her nerves tingling. Her vision swims, flashes of white and black clouding her eyesight from how tightly she's pressing her eyes together. Oliver's name escapes from her mouth in the midst of having the most incredible orgasm, and it takes an incredible amount of oxygen to calm her erratic breathing down. He comes at almost the same time, his body shuddering behind her, his soft whimpers echoing in the office. She brings her hands up to his face, stroking his soft skin and letting him ride out the rest of his orgasm. It takes a moment for her to realize how tightly Oliver's holding her, but she doesn't mind.

They had been exceeding loud, that was for sure. But Felicity is basking her post-I-had-office-sex bliss, and she really doesn't give a shit about anyone. Oliver is slumped over her, his weight almost crushing her. She doesn't care. It feels too good for words.

Oliver detangles himself from Felicity, letting a blast of cold air hit her. Clearly her throat, she turns around, a big grin plastered on his face. "That was unexpected," he says happily as he throws the condom away. He tucks his shirt in and quickly zips his pants. Despite his flushed, sweaty face it screams calm and peaceful, something she hopes to see on a daily basis.

Sighing, Felicity leans against the window and watches her boyfriend put himself back together. "I'm pretty sure the entire population of Starling City just saw our bang session."

"What if I wanted them too?" he whispers softly.

Her attention snaps up to him. She's confused. Does he have a kinky side? "What do you mean?"

Oliver walks over to where her panties were discarded and picks it up, sauntering towards her. A smile is still etched on his face. He bends down and lifts her right foot, slipping her underwear. Careful with his actions, he does the same with her left foot, and sensually lifts the piece up her legs. His eyes are fixated on hers; Felicity swallows thickly. His hands roam softly over her thighs, and she shivers at the action. He keeps his hands away from her aching core, but once he's put her underwear his hands palm her bum softly before tugging her dress down and fixing her up.

As he slowly stands up he says, "I want you to be my date for the fundraising gala next week." Oliver's eyes flicker to her lips. One of his hands gathers the stray strands of hair, tucking it behind her ear, and he smiles gently. "I think it's time I show off my girlfriend."

It's taking an absurd amount of time for her to realize the weight of his words. She's still hazy from her orgasm. "I — really? Seriously? I don't want you to feel like you have to."

"Felicity," he says firmly. The CEO Oliver Queen is in full force: cool, collected and strong. He rests his hands on her arms, staring deep into her eyes. "I want you to be my date. I want to show the world how brilliant my girlfriend is, and how much she makes me smile." She can't help but crack one of her own. "Please?"

Laughing, Felicity grabs Oliver's face and says, "Did you even have to ask? Of course I'll be your date."

As Oliver bends forward and the two share a kiss, Felicity is beginning to see the perks of being his office assistant.

(After, ahem, nine months.)


End file.
